Any Bad Day

 Any Bad Day …

If the day was inarticulate
Frustrations hushed
Compressed below a bottle cap
Carried home to marinade
In slumber left to stew
And still you wake
The curtains spread
Dawn’s light is up
To find it tight and urgent still
Irascible and fidget strewn

How will fly the new day
Awkward on the wing
Still slavishly in rank
Of same old notes
Dotted on the treble clef
Threaded through the rhythm
Of another’s beating drum

Rise up yourself
Cut and paste your razored edge
The higher mind begins
Needs let it grow
Wash over you in waves
Find steady feet again
And see thee how they run
Belay all those of fossil thought
That all the weeds know
Amongst roadside dust and stones

Know you better now the view
Breathe easy in the thinking air
Above claptraps parapet
And rest ye better
In damson glow
When next the evening comes
For never a careless prize
Was ever any day

Harlequin Writes (Jan 2012)